Metamorposis
by Still-Birth
Summary: He was the beauty and she was the beast. Ulquihime. Role-Reversal.


A/N: Originally was a one-shot, but Sami convinced me we should write it as a chapter-story 'cause she thought we should stretch the development of their characters out.

* * *

Chapter One

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_What makes friends rivals is the person who stumbled into the middle. _

_-  
_

* * *

Orihime tells the boy that he had no choice but to go with her if he wants to save his friends.

He says he doesn't care about them.

And she can tell he's not overly lying, which surprises her.

She snaps her fingers as the images flash through the gapping cuts of matter, showing off the bloodied shinigami. He watches as the Kurosaki-boy is cut by Grimmjow. He watches as the large-breasted shinigami is wrapped in Luppi's tentacles. His face reveals nothing as he watches it.

When the image of the Kurosaki-boy suddenly shifts to a dark-haired shinigami, she sees a reaction.

His eyes go wide, his mouth parts, and his hands clench. The dark-haired female shinigami is grabbed by Grimmjow. And then, just before he releases the _cero _to blow that girl's head off, Orihime snaps her fingers. The slits disappear as matter rapidly fills it back with its own substance.

Orihime's watched enough of his expression to know that he cares for the dark-haired shinigami. She repeats her 'order,' but under-handedly target the female-shinigami.

After a moment, he complies.

* * *

Orihime watches him as he walks toward Kurosaki-boy's house, slipping through the window.

When she comes by the window, she watches as he glances at the orange-haired, bandaged teenager on the bed, mumbling something close to 'idiot.' He walks around the bed and sits himself beside the sleeping dark-haired shinigami, leaning against the same draw as her.

Orihime listens intensely to what he's saying, even if she doesn't fully grasp the meaning.

He stands up after a few minutes, looking down at the dark-haired girl and glancing at the Kurosaki-boy on the bed. Then he says good-bye.

To which one, Orihime doesn't really know.

* * *

He does not look back onto Karakuro Town when he comes.

He does not wave good-bye, or cry. He does not watch as the teeth of the gaping portal closes almost painfully slow.

He does not look back onto Karakuro Town.

In fact, he does nothing at all, and his face is blank.

* * *

There is a silence between the two.

Orihime doesn't mind, being a hollow, you are alone for most of your existence, so you get use to the silence.

But he shifts. He doesn't do movements that exaggerate that he is there behind her, walking He makes those quiet movements that humans wouldn't bother to overlook, or even notice.

He shifts his weight onto his heels, ever so slightly. His hands move within his pockets, fingers digging through the fabric as if an attempt to get at the flesh. His shoulders tense into relaxation in a matter of seconds, the lines under his eyes creasing ever so often.

She finds his slight gestures almost fascinating. Arrancars are not graceful creature, but they tend not to fidget, not if they can help it.

He does it almost in a voluntary manner, as if keeping himself in check by making sure his limbs work.

As if to make sure he is still himself.

* * *

He demonstrates his powers for all the monsters to see.

They wince at the golden light, but awe as the bones, muscle, skin, comes back in rapid succession. Grimmjow looks at his restored limb in the same horrified awe.

Aizen, her father, dissects his powers easily, dirtying the golden light into a yellow tinge. He explains that it is almost a power of will, which Orihime finds somehow amusing.

He won't have a will any more, not with them.

* * *

"You will wear these clothes," she tells him when they reach the room he will be staying at. "Your meals will brought to you every 5 ½ hours, boy. I expect you to keep your living quarters neat and clean. You can remove your waste and wash in the room down that hall."

He looks down at the neat folded squares of clothes on the table. He touches them with the tips of his fingers, tracing the black lining.

The lines under his eyes cease in a wince.

She turns to leave when he speaks. "I…"

"Is there something wrong, boy?"

"I…my name is Ulquiorra," he says, steadily. "I would prefer for you to use it. I'm not a nameless hollow like you."

She laughs at that. "I have my own name."

He looks blankly at her, as if he doesn't believe her. "Is it the one before you became a hollow?"

Anger rushes into her like poison. But she retrains herself. "Yes."

"Really…?"

"Yes, really."

"Then," he says slowly, "can I ask what your name is?"

Orihime looks at him in shock. What did he ask? For her name? A little anger still running, she turns around sharply to exit the room. She pulls the door closed. But just before the room is sealed, she mumbles: "Orihime. Inoue Orihime, 4th Espada."

* * *

A/N:

N: That was slightly lame T.T

S: C'mon, dude. We're still working everything out. It's very confusing when the roles are switched.

N: I guess...

S: Unfaithful person...THANK YOU FOR READING!


End file.
